phantom menace (under the weather)
by nekolcairw
Summary: Kuroko is sick, but he has good friends. / teikou era


Momoi places her hand on Kuroko's forehead. He startles and she _tsks_.

"Tetsu-kun," she starts seriously. Kuroko backs up a little. "I'm going to get Akashi-kun if you don't go to the nurse's office right now."

"Momoi-san, are you my mother?" She raises an eyebrow. Kuroko plows on. "I didn't think so. Now kindly let me get back to practice."

It's Momoi who keeps him from face-planting onto the gym floor. She helps him to the nearest bench and gently lays him down.

"Tetsu-kun, are you... pouting?" Kuroko turns so that his face is acquainted with the slatted surface of the bench and resolutely ignores Momoi's soft laughter.

* * *

Kuroko Tetsuya has nothing against winter. But he also has nothing against microbes. His weak constitution was always a large concern of his grandmother's, but now that she's been permanently hospitalized, Kuroko fends for himself.

The winter months bring out the worst in Kuroko because with them usually comes a virulent tempest of sickness. The storm cloud that brews around Kuroko typically goes unnoticed by those around him. No matter how ornery or sickly he becomes, his weak presence masks his angst effectively.

This time, however, is different.

* * *

"Tetsu!" Aomine's voice rings out in the empty classroom and does nothing good for Kuroko's sinus pressure. "I've got notes for you!" The taller boy states this proudly, standing before him. He has the enthusiasm of a puppy who's retrieved a stick. Kuroko has to consciously keep himself from pointing this out; the fog of sickness somehow loosens his tongue.

"Aomine-kun," Kuroko looks up at him. "Has notes for me." Does not compute.

"Come on, Tetsu - don't be mean! I pay attention in class sometimes!" Kuroko levels a blank stare at him. "And you were, uh, sleeping through most of it, so I figured you might need 'em," he adds, with a small grin. Kuroko belatedly notices the small puddle of drool on his desk.

"So yeah! Notes!" The chicken scratch is remarkably earnest and thoroughly indecipherable. _It was kind_, Kuroko thinks.

"Thank you, Aomine-kun." He means it.

* * *

Kise is being extra clingy today, probably because it's cold, and Kuroko is having none of it.

"Kurokocchi, are you pinching me?! _Owowowow_—" Kuroko has no remorse and stamps down on the blond's foot with all the wrath of an angry god. Kise yelps and bounces out of range, looking hurt.

He feels bad (relatively quickly for where Kise is concerned) and apologizes as sincerely as he can with a stuffy nose. The other boy recovers quickly as per usual and they continue walking, Kise talking enough for the both of them.

Massaging his temples, Kuroko closes his eyes and rifles through his pocket for tissues.

"Kurokocchi, do you have a cold?" Kise asks, tilting his head to the side. Kuroko cracks one eye open to look at him.

"Something of the sort," he blows his nose dejectedly, "always happens around this time of year." He waves goodbye to Kise since they've reached the intersection where they part.

"Wait!" Kise frantically scampers after him. Kuroko turns to fix him with a deadpan glare. Being sick usually cuts his glares' effectiveness in half (something about red, rheumy eyes), but he's gonna work with what he's got. However, Kise is doggedly determined.

"I can help!" he says excitedly, "Let's go to the store first - I gotta pick some things up!" He leaves no room for argument and takes a hold of Kuroko's wrist. He has no strength to dig his heels in (damn these cold aches), so he ends up trailing around after the other boy.

Kise pays for everything—

(_"Model's paycheck!" A signature wink was tossed his way. Kuroko resisted the urge to walk out of the store._)

—and they end up taking it all back to Kuroko's.

"My sisters used to take care of me when I got sick," Kise is explaining as he's deftly slicing vegetables. "And then I took care of them when they finally allowed me near the stove." Kuroko is seated at the table, his appetite actually surfacing for the first time this week. Savory cooking scents fill the kitchen for the first time in a long while. If Kise had noticed the disuse of the place, he didn't voice it.

"They've both moved out now, but they left me some great recipes and I've memorized them all!" He sets the steaming bowl in front of Kuroko with a flourish. He's beaming with pride and it's rightly warranted.

It's really good.

* * *

Aomine crouches in front of Kuroko's prone form and neatly rolls the ball out of his limp hands, wiping it off on the front of his shirt. Kuroko, even in his feverish state, can recognize this as unsanitary and says as much. At the same time, Momoi aims a pack of disinfectant wipes at Aomine's head.

The taller boy grins and tells him not to worry. Apparently, he can't get sick. Momoi recounts all the times that Aomine ate dirt as a kid. He's bizarrely proud of the fact ("Must've done something right!") and Momoi shakes with silent laughter behind him.

Kuroko rolls onto his back with a long-suffering sigh, blinking hazily in the too-bright lights of the gym.

"I feel like shit," he utters dully.

That gets Aomine's attention. "What was that, Tetsu?"

"I said," Kuroko grouses, "I feel like shit and I want to die." He rolls back onto his front, soundly ignoring Aomine's howls of laughter and Momoi's expression of horror.

* * *

Midorima has gotten wind of Aomine's abysmal notetaking skills and had promptly taken over from him.

"Unexpectedly, Midorima-kun is quite the mother hen," Kuroko deadpanned.

That had gotten Midorima on a passionate rant about academic responsibility, which kind of proved Kuroko's point, but he didn't reiterate it.

Midorima's notes are exceedingly competent and Kuroko feels as though he's been blessed. And no matter how much Aomine and Kise whine, he makes sure they don't get so much as a peek. He even surprises himself. A sick Kuroko can be quite vindictive.

* * *

Midorima sews, as it turns out. And knits and crochets - the whole nine yards. Kuroko learns that knitting and crocheting are two very different things after an offhand comment of Aomine's. Kuroko had wisely kept his mouth shut.

It had started with the threadbare elbows on Kuroko's coat sleeves; Midorima had zeroed in like a hawk. It only escalated from there. Kuroko now has an assortment of homemade goods, ranging from scarves to mittens to a quilt. Soon enough, Kuroko is drowning in yarn.

It's very warm.

* * *

It's 9 a.m. on a Saturday (read: too early) and Akashi has the aura of a benevolent monarch, looking quite satisfied with his showing. There is, absurdly, a small moving crew accompanying him, unloading a small van.

"Akashi-kun-"

"Not another word, Kuroko." The red-haired captain is fairly giddy. Kuroko may be hallucinating. "I won't take them back until you're feeling 100% again."

Kuroko glances around at the various items starting to pile up. An assortment of humidifiers and incense diffusers, a space heater, surprisingly technical blankets (apparently they heat up and cool down), numerous baskets of citrus. The list goes on and floor space is shrinking at an alarming rate.

Kuroko opens his mouth again, but he really has no words.

Akashi beams.

* * *

Cold rain is pelting the windows and Kuroko is grateful for the fact that he's inside, cocooned in a myriad of blankets. He's working his way through the limited edition snacks that Murasakibara has been giving him throughout the week, many of which are vanilla-flavored. In moderation, of course.

He hears a knock at the door and he is loath to leave his nest. Since there is no one to hear his petulant stomping, he pads quietly to the door.

"Kuro-chin. Our cat had kittens." Murasakibara is wearing an all-encompassing raincoat, which is also shielding a very small cat. Kuroko hurriedly ushers them in.

* * *

In the kitchen, Murasakibara is tending to tea.

The kitten is wading its way through the peaks and valleys of Kuroko's blanket nest, curiously sniffing all the while. Kuroko falls in love (just a bit). It's mostly black but has white-socked paws. It also has startlingly blue eyes.

"It must be fate," Murasakibara says, handing Kuroko a steaming mug.

"I didn't think you believed in that sort of thing too, Murasakibara-kun." The taller boy simply shrugs, joining Kuroko on the floor.

"They always make me feel better when I have a cold."

"I would've thought that snacks and sweets did that." Murasakibara considers this.

"It usually takes both," he replies as he carefully places the kitten in Kuroko's lap.

* * *

Akashi is saying something, but Kuroko can't quite make it out. The captain's words are muffled and Kuroko's head is full of fluff. His vision is getting blurry.

"Akashi-kun." The other boy stops. "I think I am going to faint."

He does.

* * *

He wakes up in his bed, miracle of miracles. He can hear familiar voices downstairs.

"Breaking and entering," Kuroko accuses, narrowing his eyes from the doorway. He's brought his comforter down.

"Hardly, Kuroko," Akashi looks pleased. "We used your keys."

"Entering, then," he amends, making his way to the last free seat in the kitchen.

Kise's at the stovetop. At this point, he's pretty much memorized the fridge, cabinets, and pantry. Aomine's helping him and he has a knife. Everyone must be getting sick if that had gotten approved.

Kuroo's up on the table. The kitten is alternating between chasing the feather toy Murasakibara's got and the loose yarn of Midorima's latest project. It looks like another scarf.

Momoi gives him a warm smile as he sinks into his chair, sliding over some cold medicine and a glass of water.

"Feeling better, Tetsu-kun?"

Objectively, no. His head is pounding, his nose is stuffed up, and his throat burns, but somehow—

The atmosphere of the room is warm and comforting, the low buzz of conversation and sounds of cooking are soothing.

"Yeah," he says, "I really am."


End file.
